There’s a special kind of atmosphere in Camden tonight. Yes, in many ways it’s the same old vibrant, restless, gritty and cool-meets-tourist-tacky Camden, but inside the Electric Ballroom we feel a distinctly North American air, too.
Accompanying The Felice Brothers on tour is Anthony D’Amato, a New Jersey singer-songwriter with an infectious smile and a keen, yearning voice. He’s performing solo, armed only with a guitar and a great sense of humour, dry and self-deprecating yet always positive at the core. His music is straightforward in some ways, but the storytelling is clever and often involves interesting characterisation or intriguing metaphors.
Ian Felice cuts an interesting figure as front man – often wearing a wry smile or a grimace of happy surprise. He plays his battered electric with offhanded confidence and sometimes tender care, then can suddenly break out startling technique: an unexpected mini solo (this happened a few times in 'Crime Scene'), or rhythmical finger taps on the guitar body. Meanwhile, James flits between accordion and keys, never losing his infectious smile.
Drum duties performed by Will Lawrence are spot on, crisp, firm, driving, but dropping away just at the right times. And Jesske Hume on bass and backing vocals is absolutely reliable throughout.
A lot happens in this gig, with a setlist of 20 songs including three encores. It's full and rich, generous and soulful.
'Penn Station' features some exuberant audience participation, with screaming, and that leads to 'Teeth In The Tabloids' ("another railway station screaming song... I'd never realised," comments Ian).
'Nail It On The First Try' is a highlight for me: opening with the direct and intriguing vocal line, "Move the curtain aside..." and then building, with the other band-members coming in like a wave. James' accordion solo is incongruously moving, performed while his brother Ian knelt with his guitar. 'It's Midnight and the Doves Are Crying' is also beautiful, straight to the heart and passionate.
I've listened to the more recent of the Felice Brothers' albums quite a lot over the past few years, finding them particularly good for road trips and I was really looking forward to seeing how that music would work here in the UK and in this kind of venue, too. I was surprised to see the number of really dedicated fans, of diverse ages, who'd come along to see them, and the full house helped create a real buzz. Some members of the audience near the front were probably a bit over-exuberant, though, their banter and loud song requests spilling over into tedious rowdiness at times, although it didn't phase the band and in fact James seemed to take amused pleasure in it all. His glee at testing out the British English word "lads" to react to those loud audience members was a great moment, but I had the sense that some of the band's more poignant moments were a bit lost on those audience members.
I also got the sense that The Felice Brothers would be able conjure just the right on-stage presence, wherever they happened to be. In Camden, they brought an indefinable, crisp Catskill Mountains energy - replete with a clever combination of romance and dark humour - to this corner of London. They have a lot of material to draw on, having been at this game for about 18 years, and it was lovely to see them play a song on request as one of the encores ('Her Eyes Dart Round').
The band gave a fantastic performance, steeped in genuine and complete passion which seems to show no sign of letting up after almost two decades. Shaking James' hand at the merch table after the show, he's still obviously packed with energy and overwhelming gratitude to the fans who've come along and for the gift of music that we all share. That shared experience spanned the range of emotions, from wistful to joyous, and everywhere in between.
